Lart. No, Ile nor sel, nor giue him: Lend you him I will For halfe a hundred yeares: Summon the Towne Mar. How farre off lie these Armies? Mess. Within this mile and halfe Mar. Then shall we heare their Larum, & they Ours. Now Mars, I prythee make vs quicke in worke, That we with smoaking swords may march from hence To helpe our fielded Friends. Come, blow thy blast. They Sound a Parley: Enter two Senators with others on the Walles of Corialus. Tullus Auffidious, is he within your Walles? 1.Senat. No, nor a man that feares you lesse then he, That's lesser then a little: Drum a farre off. Hearke, our Drummes Are bringing forth our youth: Wee'l breake our Walles Rather then they shall pound vs vp our Gates, Which yet seeme shut, we haue but pin'd with Rushes, They'le open of themselues. Harke you, farre off Alarum farre off. There is Auffidious. List what worke he makes Among'st your clouen Army Mart. Oh they are at it Lart. Their noise be our instruction. Ladders hoa. Enter the Army of the Volces. Mar. They feare vs not, but issue forth their Citie. Now put your Shields before your hearts, and fight With hearts more proofe then Shields. Aduance braue Titus, They do disdaine vs much beyond our Thoughts, which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on my fellows He that retires, Ile take him for a Volce, And he shall feele mine edge. Alarum, the Romans are beat back to their Trenches Enter Martius Cursing. Mar. All the contagion of the South, light on you, You Shames of Rome: you Heard of Byles and Plagues Plaister you o're, that you may be abhorr'd Farther then seene, and one infect another Against the Winde a mile: you soules of Geese, That beare the shapes of men, how haue you run From Slaues, that Apes would beate; Pluto and Hell, All hurt behinde, backes red, and faces pale With flight and agued feare, mend and charge home, Or by the fires of heauen, Ile leaue the Foe, And make my Warres on you: Looke too't: Come on, If you'l stand fast, wee'l beate them to their Wiues, As they vs to our Trenches followes. Another Alarum, and Martius followes them to gates, and is shut in. So, now the gates are ope: now proue good Seconds, 'Tis for the followers Fortune, widens them, Not for the flyers: Marke me, and do the like. Enter the Gati. 1.Sol. Foole-hardinesse, not I 2.Sol. Nor I 1.Sol. See they haue shut him in. Alarum continues All. To th' pot I warrant him. Enter Titus Lartius Tit. What is become of Martius? All. Slaine (Sir) doubtlesse 1.Sol. Following the Flyers at the very heeles, With them he enters: who vpon the sodaine Clapt to their Gates, he is himselfe alone, To answer all the City